"It's so blue," he gasped, awestruck. Tears rolled out of the corners of his eyes.
"Eh?" the surly dwarf said.
"The sky...it's so blue," he mumbled, mesmerized by the depths of the azure skyline, and the white moon that was even now visible in the daylight.
"Of course the sky's blue," Nailin shot back, jostling in his saddle as his pony pranced over a little rise. "What other color would it be, daffy? Maybe that otta be yer name. Daffy. Or maybe a wizard's name, eh, Zarrock? What are some good wizard names?"
The dwarf's voice droned on, a nagging list of names the man no longer heard. As time slipped by, his mind ventured into the shadowy depths of his memory for any sign of who he was and what had happened to him. Did he have a family, a brother, a sister, mother, and father? He felt nothing for them if they did exist, only a vast loneliness.
Hollow.
His memory was a dark chasm, bottomless and empty. All he could remember were the shrieking cries of dragons. His answers lay there. Find the dragons, and he would find himself. He did not know how long he had been in the water, but of one thing he was sure: if he followed the Raging Red River upstream long enough, he would find the place where he had been thrown in, or at least something that would spark his memories.
He slept through most of the morning and woke only because Zarrock stopped to make sure that he ate and to inform him that they were going to move off the road to go cross-country, to make up for lost time. He drank more of the elvish elmisder tea. Within moments, he was back asleep.
Dragon screams and a flash of lightning in the dark startled him awake. It was well into the night. A roaring fire lit the glen where they had made camp. The dwarf stood with his back to the flames, his heavy axe slapping in one hand, his shield in the other.
"What do ye see, Zarrock? They're all around us. I can smell the dogs." Gleaming yellow eyes appeared from out of the gloom. At first a few, but then more and more pairs of phantom orbs stared out at them from the murk of the forest.
"Easy, good friend," Zarrock said from the darkness behind the litter. A glance in his direction revealed the elf, drawn bow in hand, also looking away from the camp into the dark wood. "Do not be in such a hurry to face this foe."
Nailin stopped moving and looked over his shoulder toward Zarrock. "Eh?"
"There are far too many timber wolves for the two of us, my friend."
"Um, are they the smaller grey ones or those monster black beasties?"
"You may want to find something to stand on, good dwarf," Zarrock said.
"I wish they'd attack sometime soon," Nailin said, rocking on his heels. "Come on! Let's be done with it!"
The man felt the imminent danger and rose from his bed. He had to defend them, keep them from being injured or killed. They were only there because of him, to protect him.
The forest exploded with activity. Huge dark shapes came bounding out of the darkness, fangs gleaming. The dwarf roared an ancient battle cry and sprang forward, his axe raised in motion for the strike that would kill the first wolf. The elf's bowstring twanged as he released and reloaded in the same second.
"Hold!" the man screamed, calling upon the powers of the earth to freeze them in place. He wasn't sure how he did it or how he knew how to do it, but he did. He summoned the power from the air and earth around him and channeled it through his core. The elf and the dwarf were frozen in place. Nailin had one foot on a log, the other in the air as he was poised to leap into the charge of the advancing wolves. His axe was in a full swing forward, the force behind it evident in the twisted features on his gruff face.
Zarrock's first arrow was held motionless in mid flight, halfway to its target, his arm in position to pull another from the quiver slung over his shoulder.
The wolves stopped their charge, but continued to glare at the dwarf and elf, fangs bared. The largest of the pack padded into the firelight, stopped several feet in front of the man, and bowed. All of the wolves bowed.
He stepped forward and rested his hand on the wolf's immense head. His fingers sank into the beast's thick black fur. He knew the wolf understood, but he spoke the words nevertheless. "Rest easy, Great One. These are my friends. They mean me no harm."
The wolf raised its head and looked upon the dwarf, who was frozen in place. Nailin's eyes bulged as it approached. Beads of sweat ran freely down the sides of the dwarf's face. His arm vibrated as he tried to break free. His chest pumped wildly, his breathing becoming frantic. The wolf turned his head to look upon the man once more.
"I would prefer them alive, if you don't mind," he said, glancing at Nailin and Zarrock. "These are good men, though the dwarf would have me believe otherwise. They saved my...life."
The wolf stood face-to-face with Nailin, its yellow eyes fixed on his. It opened its mouth as wide as it could; a resonant snarl emerged from deep within its chest.
Calasia
Visit Calasia at www.calasia.net/blog to purchase Book II, "Dragon's Den" or the "Where Dragons Lie", complete Box Set, as well as other Kindle Short Reads.
Where Dragons Lie
Book II
Dragon's Den
by
Richard R. Morrison
The Hollow Man, continues his quest to uncover the elusive secrets of his nightmares. Across the Greensward Plains of Callibri, and into the crowded city of Zelea, the group moves closer to an explosive encounter, as Wizard's powers grow beyond his control.
Look for, "Dragon's Den".
www.calasia.net/blog.
Hollow Man: Book I (Where Dragons Lie 1) Page 2
